


grief is just love (with no place to go)

by Morning_Glory_Skyes



Series: to deafen the world with a wail (i will grieve for you) [1]
Category: Hollow Knight (Video Games)
Genre: Dont copy to another site, Fix-It, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Memories, Minor self-loathing, The Knight is called Ghost, Time Travel, author may have grudge against traitor lord cause hard fight :(, dont @ me im super anxious about everything, fair warning the soul sanctum is fucked up, ghost blames themself for shit they shouldnt, ghost is mad at like 90 percent of the adults, ghost is super conflicted about their dad, guess what game ive poured 20 hours into, guess what im up to w/ this fic and win a free cookie, no this isnt anti-PK i love that bastard, post Embrace the Void ending, they/them pronouns for all vessels, you know its bad when PK canonically condemns it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-14
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:20:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 18,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27009499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morning_Glory_Skyes/pseuds/Morning_Glory_Skyes
Summary: There is a Ghost in Hallownest.There is a Ghost of a dream in Hallownest.
Relationships: The Knight/Quirrel (Hollow Knight)
Series: to deafen the world with a wail (i will grieve for you) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1985645
Comments: 207
Kudos: 423





	1. Hallownest

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Maiden22](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maiden22/gifts).



There is a ghost in Hallownest.

There is a dream of a ghost in Hallownest

_It's not a bad dream_ , Ghost muses idly, as they glance around the Resting Grounds. As barren as they remember, though perhaps there are a few less tombstones than usual. Odd, but not something to be alarmed about. They're just passing through the area, heading towards the Blue Lake and where their good friend took his last breaths. Before drowning himself.

Ghost still hasn't forgiven Quirrel for that.

They probably won't for a very long time.

But what is time to a God? When you're above existence itself, so far above the others that your title is God of Gods? Ghost doesn't know, honestly. They're the Lord of Shades, God of shadows, void, and now, after having eaten Absolute Radiance in a fit of rage for what She did to their siblings and home, dreams.

Ghost trudges among the tombstones, carefully picking their way over stone and small bones. As much as they would like to pay a visit to their moth friend, they know full well that she passed on shortly after they collected enough Essence. They still remember her last words to them, whispered truths about the history of this dead, lost kingdom. About the war between Radiance and the Pale King.

They find themself angry at both participants. On one hand, their father absolutely fucked up. But on the other hand, Radiance was also in the wrong, slaughtering people gleefully in their dreams. She took their lives, and then violated their afterlives; reanimating their husks until they were forced to shamble about mindlessly. No matter how long She's been dead, Ghost finds their anger still rises within their shell, bitter and restless. Ghost doesn't hate many things, but they find they definitely hate Her.

Given half a chance, Ghost would absolutely murder Her again without hesitation or remorse.

Perhaps they will climb through the pantheon again, if only so they can get the chance to stick their nail into Her flesh. Ghost finds their anger rising dangerously, and they take a few quick breaths to settle themself. As angry as they are at their father, they find their anger for Radiance burns far far brighter.

Getting to whack their father's corpse off of his throne definitely helped there. Though they did feel guilt after, and what a sensation guilt is, when they came to realization that their father died defending his kingdom.

No matter what Hornet, _their sister their sister their sister_ , thought, the Pale King had given his life for his home. The Lord of Shades can understand that sentiment. No matter how much they may dislike it, they can understand why their father did what he did. It's not like Radiance gave him very many choices in the end.

(Privately, Ghost thinks of the Path of Pain, the anger and rage they have at their father's buzzsaws, and the soft, gentle memory they saw at the very end. Their father, gently and quietly, loving his eldest child. The way he desperately lied to himself about how hollow the vessels really were. The way he tried to not get attached, but still did in the end. The grief, the regret, the remorse. The way the Pale King burned up his own light in an attempt to help his child.)

(Ghost can understand that, even if they don't like it.)

It's not hard to jump from the top of resting grounds to the bottom, and Ghost pauses, hesitates, when they realize something. The coffin that they had originally broken, the one that goes into the dark parts of the Resting Grounds, is unbroken. Untouched.

Ghost is pretty sure, reasonably sure, that they had broken that to access the area below.

Maybe they hadn't?

They tilt their head to the side, slowly, and make a chirping noise. It helps them think, focusing on the sound they make instead of the outside world. They don't remember whether or not they broke that. Ghost huffs a sigh and then strides forward, idly checking how much Soul they have in reserve.

Good. More than enough for Descending Dark.

Stone crumbles beneath the blow and Ghost finds themself slamming into the ground below, dust exploding up around them. It's dead silent, not even the sound of claws across flooring, scrambling, crackling, razor sharp blades glinting in the dark. Ghost pauses. Odd. There should be an Entombed Husk here. They've killed it often enough that they're positive of its placement in the Resting Grounds. Ghost moves forward slowly and pokes their head beneath the path. Nothing. Not even a Belfly.

That's... really confusing. The coffin is one thing, but Ghost is positive that they have killed several Entombed Husks within the Crypts.

What a strange dream they're having. Perhaps it's the influence of having taken over the Heart of Dreams and Light? Are they dreaming of Radiance's memories of what Hallownest used to be?

Ghost makes a humming noise, long and low and slow, and turns towards the Blue Lake, stepping up to its shores. Quirrel's nail is no longer there, no longer a marker to their best friend's grave ( _they loved him and he left them behind, abandoned them_ ), and Ghost heaves a sigh.

They really _are_ dreaming, then.

It's a good dream. Blissful and quiet and perfectly peaceful.

Ghost doesn't want to wake up.


	2. Crossroads

There's a ghost in the Crossroads.

There is a dream of a ghost in the Crossroads.

The Crossroads are as empty as ever, no longer pulsing with that dull orange glow that Ghost remembers so well. There's no sign of the infection here, anymore. Ghost made sure of that.

But there's also no sign of anything else. No fallen corpses remaining where they had collapsed, like puppets with their strings cut, after Ghost had eaten Her whole. The only sound they can hear is the tik tik tik of Crawlid and Tiktik claws against the ground as they circle their tiny area, again and again and again.

Ghost carefully makes their way across the area, leaping from platform to platform and slowly up towards where the map has a Stag Station marked. They hover at the door for a moment, considering going in to talk to the old Stag, but then change their mind and leap upwards. They don't much feel like talking to anyone right now.  
Their grief and anger and rage boils within their tiny body, and Ghost knows full well that the only way they can process it is with violence.

Usually by beating up a bunch of Husks until they feel better.

However, for some odd reason, Husks seem to be in short supply. Ghost ponders this as they make their way up, taking the first left to head towards the Grubfather's domain. There's only two paths in that direction and Ghost would really rather not walk past the Black Egg Temple. Despite having consumed Her light, the God of Gods still finds themself deeply uncomfortable every time they have to go near the place.

And so, they avoid it. Usually by taking every single route around the building that they can.

They can hear the sound of the Gruzzers flying aimlessly around long before they can see them, and Ghost hops out onto one of the platforms hanging from chains. There's another Tiktik aimlessly circling its platform and Ghost half-considers killing it out of mercy.

Too much effort, they eventually decide, and with a shake of their head they move on.

Grubfather is exactly where they remember and Ghost strides into the room, idly noting the way the grubs poke their heads out of their homes and then jerk them back in. Grubfather regards them cautiously, not at all in the way they remember, but eventually makes a call and the grubs poke back out again. Some even wave cheerfully in their direction. Bemused, Ghost waves back, and then wishes they were tall enough to see further back.

(They could be taller. Almost as tall as Hallow, except Ghost found they were too big for most of their usual haunts and so chose their smaller form. It's easier that way. People are more friendly to something that is smaller than them, after all.)

Ghost hangs out there for a while, just taking the chance to settle neatly onto the floor and polish and clean their nail. It gleams in the light, the glow of Pure Ore chasing the shadows away with every flash, and Ghost idly checks their reflection in it.

What an odd dream this is. How different Hallownest is when there no longer is any infection ravaging it, nor the shells of dead bugs lining the roads.

It's certainly easier to travel, Ghost notes idly. Not that they miss being assaulted by Vengeflies and Aspids of all types. It's quieter now, more peaceful, but there's still an undercurrent of something they can't quite understand. Something that they can't quite put their finger on.

Fear, almost, but not quite.

Ghost knows fear, knows it well. Usually they're the one causing it, especially when they abandon their shell and tower above another, their eight eyes gleaming within the shadows of their Void.

The sight of the God of Gods is not a good one, especially when you are on the receiving end of it.

They lift their nail up again and get to their feet, sheathing their nail across their back. The Grubfather calls out a goodbye, something unintelligible in a language that Ghost can't understand, but the sentiment is still the same. They turn enough to wave goodbye to him in return and then step out and back into the Crossroads.

_What a nice dream_ , Ghost thinks idly as they leap from platform to platform. Perhaps they will visit Greenpath in this dream. See what the place looks like.

They probably should, too. If only to drop by the Hunter and see what he thinks of their completed journal. Ghost hums idly and then pauses, looking up to the tunnel that leads to the well in Dirtmouth. They're not really in the mood to talk to anyone there, but perhaps it wouldn't be too much for them to check on how the other's are doing.

(Ghost has, after all, been avoiding Hallow like the plague. They should have arrived sooner, should have been faster, should have gotten through the Pantheon quicker. It doesn't matter that they eventually did it, beat and consumed Absolute Radiance. Hallow still suffered, still lost an eye and an arm.)

(Just one more thing Ghost can't possibly forgive. That list is slowly growing longer.)

Choice made, Ghost leaps from platform to platform, the monarch wings hidden beneath their cloak occasionally flashing open to propel them higher. They may not be able to talk to either of their siblings, not without their void quaking and shaking beneath their shell, but perhaps they can see how they're doing.

But then again, this nothing more than a pleasant dream. Perhaps Ghost can talk to their siblings with no fear.

There is no Radiance, no infection, no creeping sensation of death in an orange fog. It's only a dream.

And Ghost is the God of Dreams.


	3. Dirtmouth

There is a ghost in Dirtmouth.

There is a dream of a ghost in Dirtmouth.

Dirtmouth is. . . nothing like this ghost remembers.

They pause at the edge of the town, just barely pulling themself out of the well as they stare in stunned shock. Elderbug isn't in his usual position, there's more people around, and Ghost ducks back down into the well with a sharp mental curse.

This is definitely a dream.

Ghost is 100% dreaming, and these are Radiance's memories of what Hallownest used to be. Before She ravaged it with Her burning, searing light and the walking dead. They slide down the wall, scrabbling to grab on the ledge of the tunnel that's halfway down, and haul themself into the tunnel, breathing quickly.

Maybe, since they're now the God of Dreams, they can influence this?

But they've only barely gotten a grip on their powers as the Lord of Shades, much less actually being able to know how to use Light and Dreams without searing their own void. It's taken Ghost everything they have to learn how to turn from Void Given Focus to the tiny shape they now wear.

There's no way they would be able to influence this dream without majorly messing it up, so Ghost supposes that they should just enjoy it as it is.

Which means that Hallow and Hornet are not in Dirtmouth currently.

Ghost supposes they should go explore elsewhere, then. Maybe they'll get lucky and find the siblings that they're looking for.

They slide down the wall all the way to the bottom of the well and pull out their map, humming soundlessly as they trace out a path through the Crossroads. If this is a dream, then Ghost is going to enjoy it to the fullest. Which means taking their time and exploring every single area that they can find.

Up first is Greenpath, the place they first met their sister, and the first time they found a corpse of their sibling.

Ghost pauses, breathing in slowly and weakly. The Greenpath Vessel, whose name they never knew nor ever learned, just lying there discarded after Ghost took their cloak. Just another thing that Ghost cannot forgive themself for.

But that's not anything different than usual. They're finding new things every day.

Closing the map with a sharp snap, still good even after all their adventures, Ghost tucks it beneath their cloak and turns towards the entrance of Greenpath, slowly trudging forward until they're forced to leap downwards. The fall is refreshing, even if the thud of hitting the floor rattles them from horn to foot.

It takes Ghost a solid thirty seconds to realize they completely missed the entrance to Greenpath.

They curse, then leap up onto the nearby platform, idly whacking a Tiktik that comes too close. It squeals at them, stilling for the barest heartbeat, and then continues on its path as if it had never happened. _Tiktiks_ , Ghost thinks with amusement. Their world is nothing more than them and the path they tread. What a simple, comfortable life they must lead.

Greenpath looms in front of them and Ghost steps forward, feeling the way the air shifts from dry and stale to warmer and humid. The liquid sticks to their shell and Ghost rubs at it irritably. Even their cloak sticks to their void in the wet, moist heat of Greenpath. Ghost finds that, no matter how much they like Greenpath and Unn, the Queen's Gardens are far more pleasant to their void.

They slide through the thick foliage, easily picking their way down the path, keeping an eye out for any opponents. The Obbles float lazily above them, a slow easy path that Ghost can predict with ease and practice, and they lunge forward to whack one. It dies instantly, hemolymph oozing out with a single slice of their nail.

Ghost pauses.

Hemolymph. Not infection, but hemolymph. Green like they used to see on Quirrel, green like Elderbug once mentioned things are supposed to be, green smeared all over the broken remains of Tiso's corpse.

There's not a single speck of orange.

If they could cry, they would. What a beautiful dream to dream. Of a Hallownest without infection, without death.

Ghost shakes the hemolymph off of their blade with a quick flick, watching with blank amazement as pale glowing green splatters across rich green grass. They idly wipe the last bits off and sling the nail back into place, marveling at the lack of infection.

The grass is soft beneath their feet as they walk, idly avoiding the acid pools despite being long since immune to its burn. Isma's Tear made short work of that, after all. A long open space carries out in front of them and Ghost leans down, feeling power concentrate as crystals build up around their feet. Crystal Dash activates with a burst and Ghost finds themself across the room within moments, the power exploding in a burst as they cancel it. Leaves crunch loudly and Ghost peers into the shadows of a tunnel.

Nothing, not even a single bit of orange.

Ghost finds their shoulders shaking as they laugh silently, a hand coming up to press against the smoothness of their mask.

A beautiful dream and they can't even control who they see within its depths. Ghost would laugh at the cruelty if they could.

No control over whether they get to see Quirrel ( _gone gone gone gone, drowned and dead and Ghost can't even tell him they loved him_ ), Hornet ( _their sister that they care for_ ) or Hallow ( _who they failed failed failed_ ).

What a cruel, beautiful dream. Radiance surely must be laughing at them from Her grave. 


	4. Greenpath

There is a ghost in Greenpath.

There is a ghost of a memory in Greenpath.

It takes this ghost a solid hour of just sitting there in a secluded corner--breathing slowly and steadily to calm themself--before they can even consider moving again. Perhaps they are far less unfeeling than they originally thought, perhaps it's a side effect of ascending to Lord of Shades and then again to God of Dreams.

The lack of infection has rattled them thoroughly.

_Or_ _perhaps_ , Ghost muses, _there is infection in these memories of Hallownest of Old, we just haven't found it yet._ Which could be true. Radiance has been around for a long, long time, and Ghost has no idea which of Her memories they are seeing.

Which time period they're dreaming of.

It could be anything from shortly after the Pale Wyrm took Her throne, to only days before the infection really started to spread.

Ghost hums low and slow, something they heard their sister sing once, oh so long ago, and runs their claws through the grass. They flex their hand, tearing up little strands and then raise it, admiring the way the green contrasts against the black of their chitin. How pretty, this uninfected land. Ghost wishes it could stay this way forever. No pain, no fear, no infection.

What a beautiful dream.

They really wish they had some idea of how to use their power. It would make controlling this dream so much easier. But no, they can barely use the void as it is, and Ghost has long since learned their lesson in messing things up badly.

(Case in point: the one time they tried to make void spears after sparring with Grimm. They ended up spearing themself, shattering their mask viciously and painfully, and it took them a solid week to recover just from that. So, no, Ghost isn't going to attempt to play with Dreams. Not for a long while.)

(Besides, their sister would absolutely stab them if they woke her up while attempting to play with this dream. And Ghost has zero desires to be speared on her needle. Not again.)

(Once was painful enough, thank you very much.)

Heaving a sigh, Ghost gets to their feet and pulls open their map, examining it carefully. They're still not in the mood to talk, so that scratches off the Hunter, even if they've long since filled out his Journal. But then again, this is only a dream of what once was, and therefore there's a really good chance that he would have no idea who they are.

Annoying, but Ghost honestly expected nothing less. They may or may not be alive in this time period, if it's far enough to when the Pale King first started creating vessels then perhaps Ghost doesn't exist in this dream.  
Really, they'd have to go to the Abyss to check and make sure.

Ghost stops for a moment and then groans. They have no interest in talking to anyone right now, not even the Old Stag, so that means they're going to have to walk. All the way. To the Abyss.

Wyrm dammit all. Wyrm dammit all to the deepest parts of the Void.

Why now, of all times, do they not want to talk to anyone? Or even be seen by people? Why now do they not want to be part of existence? Couldn't they have slipped into this mindset in a more convenient time? Like after they'd talked to people? After the Stag had taken them through the long winding Stagpaths into the Hidden Station tucked away within the Basin?

Apparently not. Apparently they couldn't wait that long.

Ghost crumples the map perhaps a bit harshly and shoves it under their cloak, grumbling darkly. What they wouldn't give to be able to teleport like their sibling, or even Grimm. They'd attempt it themself but that not only comes with a risk of accidentally leaving parts behind but also that they have no idea where even to start learning how to teleport.

There's also the fact that Ghost has no idea what will be friendly or hostile in this dream. Their sister had once told them that dreams didn't have to make sense, or even play by conventional rules, which means Ghost has no idea what to expect.

Ghost stamps a bunch of grass out of irritation, feeling only mildly better when it breaks under the force. As nice as this dream is, it's a complete and utter inconvenience that they can't control it. That they can't warp the dream around them until the surroundings were no longer Greenpath but instead the deep void of the Abyss. They're just going to have to walk there themself.

Frustrating but doable. Ghost has, after all, traveled there on foot before.

They pull out the map again and smooth out the crinkles, feeling a little bad about how cruelly they'd treated Cornifer's work. The bug had spent hours mapping out areas and Ghost just up and crumples it like it's nothing.

Their void curls uncomfortably and Ghost forces themself to peer down at it, tracing routes through Greenpath until they find one they like. It winds back across the Lands of Unn and then takes a sharp downward turn, passing through two areas of Fog Canyon, and then into the Fungal Wastes.

Perhaps, if Ghost is feeling more comfortable being seen by people, they will peek into the Mantis Village and see how they're doing. It would be nice to see what the tribe is like in Radiance's memories.

Then maybe, they'll head towards the City of Tears. Despite how wet and rainy it is, Ghost finds they quite like the sensation of rain on their shell. It's soothing in a way they remember the void to be, all deep shadows and darkness and the caress of family. They are the Void in a way that no one else will ever be able to match. In a way that will always make the Abyss feel safer compared to any other location.

Ghost hums softly and puts away the map again, more carefully this time, and leaps up onto a ledge that leads towards Fog Canyon. They're not particularly excited to see the Ooma again, but if they don't want to take the long path back through the Crossroads then there isn't much choice.

Hopefully they can avoid being exploded this time. Ghost remembers not liking it very much.

Their humming echoes around the area and Ghost can't stop the way their void shivers in pleasure. What a nice moment in an equally nice dream. 


	5. Fog Canyon

There's a ghost in Fog Canyon.

There's a ghost of a memory in Fog Canyon.

This ghost has forgotten how much they dislike Ooma and their stupid exploding cores.

Ghost slides down a wall, pressing as close to the rough surface as they can get in an attempt to avoid being any closer to the Ooma floating passively by. They have no wish to be exploded any more than they already have. Twice is bad enough, and Ghost finds themself twitching nervously every time an Ooma so much as floats towards them.

What a horrible, terrible set of enemies for an area. Despite Ghost's hatred for Crystal Hunters and Primal Aspids, Ooma are, hands down, the worst passive mob they've ever encountered. Any tiny accidental swing can break that fragile membrane and then Ghost is left scrambling to get out of the way of the explosive core rocketing towards them.

They leap over the floating jellyfish and carefully dash across the pit, taking great care to avoid the tiny Uoma that's sparking with electricity. Ghost eyes it for a moment. They could kill it, slice open the membrane, and feast on its core.

(Quirrel once told them that Uoma cores are delicious. Ghost doesn't think they could eat it without thinking of him and his grave at the Blue Lake. They leave the Uoma alone.)

(Ghost slides down another wall, their void churning uncomfortably beneath their chitin. They miss Quirrel so much. How could he, how dare he leave them like that. At the time they hadn't thought much of Quirrel talking softly and quietly to them at the lake. They hadn't thought much about his distant eyes and quiet hitch in his voice. Ghost deeply regrets not staying longer, not telling him that they cared about him so much. They remember the way their void stilled at the sight of the nail stuck in the sand, of the way the water rippled ominously, the way they hadn't understood completely until Quirrel's blue bandana washed ashore right at their feet.)

(Hornet had told them later, when they'd asked quietly and weakly, void quivering beneath their chitin, about depression and what it can do to the mind. About how it can tear and tear and tear until there's almost nothing left. How the one dealing with it can hide it completely and utterly, not revealing it until the bitter end. Ghost deeply wishes they had been a better friend to Quirrel.)

They angrily slice down some vines and wipe the void dripping down their face away. It smears across the cloth of their cloak and Ghost breathes in a hitched breath. They desperately want to see Quirrel in this dream but they dare not to. Ghost has no idea how they would react to seeing him. Not after he'd killed himself by drowning in a lake when Ghost was close by.

Not after they'd found the soaked remains of his bandana that they still carry to this day.

Ghost leaps across a series of platforms, carelessly Shade Dashing through a bunch of Ooma. They need to get out of Fog Canyon right now, before the memories overwhelm them and actually make them cry more than a few tears of void. They pull out their map again, grimacing when they realize they're going to have to go by the Archive to get to the entrance to Fungal Wastes. On one hand, it would be nice to see the place when it originally was taken care of and lived in, but on the other hand Ghost doesn't know if they could handle it.

There is another path that goes above the Archives, blocked off by natural Shade Gates. Ghost could easily go that way and avoid dealing with any of this emotional mess.

But emotion has always been their weak spot and they loved Quirrel so damn much. They still do.

Ghost takes the path that goes by the Archives.

They slip carefully over the edge of stone cliffs and peer down at the Archive below, admiring the way the acid inside of it lights up the edges of the buildings with a green glow. There are a bunch of bugs running around and Ghost can see them as they rush past windows, hauling important papers and books around.

Oh how gorgeous this area used to be, when it was untouched by Radiance's rage and greed. How pretty the foliage was, deep and crisp and smelling like fresh rain. Ghost ducks their head and breathes in slowly, just relishing in the scent. They're unsure if they should stay here for a little longer, hoping to catch a glimpse of who Quirrel used to be, or if they should just go and head towards the Mantis Village.

Ghost can't believe they're trying to figure out if they should subject themself to emotional pain or not.

The choice is taken from them, however, when the door to the Archives opens and someone steps out. Ghost freezes in place, halfway in a dash behind another large rock, and they crash into it with a muffled thud. They wheeze, then peer up and around the boulder, void shaking within their chitin.

It's Quirrel, and he's laughing in a way they've never heard. Soft and bright, with a hand covering where his mouth is beneath the mask. His shoulders are shaking, a book clutched to his chest, and Ghost ducks down so they can cover their mask. Thick, soupy tears of void are dripping down over their fingers and if they could sob, they would be.

Ghost stumbles to their feet and takes off, dashing quickly between boulders until they can no longer see the Archives. It's terribly silent without the sound of Quirrel laughing.

Their heart cracks in their chest at the thought of waking up in a world where Quirrel is dead and gone. Ghost is never going to get to hear him laugh like that ever again.

What a _horrible_ dream. What an absolutely horrible dream. Ghost is going to learn how to wield Radiance's power if it's the last thing they do. If only to avoid having their heart broken like this again.


	6. Fungal Wastes

There is a ghost in the Fungal Wastes.

There is a ghost of a memory in the Fungal Wastes.

This ghost is tired, heartbroken, and on the verge of tears for the eighth time in as many minutes.

They don't know what they're doing, other than that they have to get as far away from the Archives as possible. Their void boils inside of their chitin, writhing beneath the shell and dripping out of eyeholes and down pale bone. Ghost chokes back a soundless sob and stumbles, barely missing tripping over an ambling Ambloom. The dumb thing squeaks at them, and they lash out blindly with their nail. Ghost is pretty sure they missed, what with the lack of pained squeal.

Of course going by the Archives was a terrible idea. Of course it would hurt them, seeing a Quirrel that they could never have, could never touch, could never love.

Ghost is certain they did it as a punishment for failing to save him.

There are many things they should have been better at, many ways they could have helped, done anything, and Ghost had _failed_ them all.

What a terrible sibling, friend, child, _God_ , they are.

They scrub at their mask, white as bone and streaked with the half-dried grey of their tears, and take in several quick breaths. The air of the Fungal Wastes is thick with gold-colored spores and they sidestep a tiny Fungling. It squeaks in horror and drags itself out of the ground, tiny legs scrabbling across dirt in an attempt to get as far away from them as possible.

If Ghost could do that themself, they would.

Another hitched breath and Ghost pulls themself to their feet. They'd been so sure they'd recovered, had gotten over Quirrel's death, but seeing him again had been like stabbing their nail through their face. A barely scabbed over wound ripped open to freely bleed void onto the ground.

Ghost needs to get as far as possible from the Archives. Preferably right now.

They don't have Hornet to distract them in this dream, not while they slumber and live these memories. So they'll just have to do it on their own. Ghost takes a step forward and then another, gaze glued to the opposite wall. They can do this. They have to.

It's not like they have any other choice.

A quick, sharp inhale, and they're jumping down a cliffside, the mantis claw allowing them to dig into the wall and slide down it.

There's a Shrumal Warrior lurking on a nearby platform but Ghost has no desire to disturb it. While a battle would be good for getting out of their head, Ghost's thoughts are currently so heavy that there's a very good chance they would just end up taking some rather unwanted hits.

The Shrumal Warrior, however, spots them and clearly doesn't have that sort of hesitation. It gets to its feet with a screech and Ghost pauses, then turns to look at it.

Orange. Brilliant _infected_ orange.

Looks like She is active in these memories after all.

Something vicious and bitter curls in their chest and Ghost can't stop the growl that vibrates through them at the sight of Her work. It does make sense, these dreams being no more than Her memories of this time, but it makes them incredibly angry to see it.

To see the way She so gleefully murdered and violated the corpses of their father's people.

Ghost really can understand why their father did what he did, but they still don't like it. Her presence makes them angry enough as it is.

They draw their nail from their back, the gleaming white of the Pure Nail glinting in what little light there is, and lunge forward to meet the Shrumal Warrior in battle. It rolls towards them with a cry, familiar orange spores puffing up into a cloud, and Ghost dashes through it with ease. They strike the infected mushroom once in the back and it screeches in pain.

It's a deep blow, the Pure Nail being more than sharp enough to carve easily into it, ripping and tearing flesh and leaving a gaping cavern behind, and the Shrumal Warrior slumps over fairly quickly. Ghost swallows tightly and takes a step forward, carefully nudging the remains with their nail. Brilliant orange infection spills out of the gash, coating the length of their weapon, and the ooze hisses menacingly upon contact with the ground. They take a step back and slump against the nearby wall, swallowing tightly.

This is just a dream. No matter what Ghost does here, they'll wake up and nothing will be as it is now.

It's just a dream. They've killed and eaten Radiance's power. She's gone, dead, and can't possibly hurt the people Ghost cares about ever again. They just have to keep reminding themself that.

Still, the sight of the infection makes their chitin quiver and shake. They're half certain they'll hear the scream of an Infected Vengefly, bloated to the very brim with Her divine light. Ghost would really rather not, thanks.

They glance around quickly and spot another Shrumal Warrior hiding between some rocks. This one doesn't seem to be infected, for it snarls at them but its attacks are free of orange. Ghost bats it away with the blunt side of their nail and gives it a hasty bow before jumping off the ledge to the one below. It makes a confused noise and peers down at them. Bemused, Ghost waves and their shoulders shake with silent laughter when it squeaks and recoils.

So only some are infected at this point in time. Ghost heads deeper into the Wastes and ponders this knowledge. They're still unsure as to where in Radiance's dream they are, but they're pretty sure they'll be finding out soon enough.

The Mantis Village looms ahead of them, after all. And Ghost is intimately aware of who is in charge there. Briefly, they wonder if the Mark of Pride they now wear will be proof enough, or if the Mantises would merely believe them a thief to be disposed of. Either way, Ghost isn't particularly keen on meeting the business end of the sister's lances.

Once was definitely bad enough.

Still, despite all its rough sections, despite its heartbreak and sorrow, this really isn't too bad of a dream after all. 


	7. Mantis Village

There is a ghost in the Mantis Village.

There is a ghost of a dream in the Mantis Village.

This village, once so barren and cold, is now bustling with life. Ghost is having to be extremely careful to not be seen by anyone. They would have removed the Mark of Pride charm from their cloak out of sheer self-preservation, if only because getting hit by Mantis claws hurt like crazy, but apparently it's gone now. Ghost frowns at that, but sticks to the shadows. It's insanely difficult sneaking past the guards, especially since there are more of them than ever, but Ghost is managing. Somehow.

A Mantis patrol strolls by, a lazy sort of lethal glide, and Ghost ducks a little lower into the shadows, taking great care not to move too much. Getting into the place will be ten times harder if the intruder alarm is raised.

Besides, Ghost has no desire to fight the Mantis Lords again. They just want to see what's going on; see if they can get a better pinpoint of when this dream is set. Ghost is fully aware that, at one point in time, there were four Mantis Lords, not three.

The Traitor Lord's Child had been more than happy to tell them about her father. Ghost idly vibrates their void, soundless to everyone except themself, and peers around another corner. They know so little about this time, nothing other than the lore they'd collected on their travels and what others had been willing to tell them. Sometimes it was easy to get the information, sometimes it was incredibly difficult.

No, Ghost isn't bitter about their mother at all. Not a single bit. Ghost finds they're far more angry about their mother's choices than they are their father's. At least the Pale King was willing to die for them. He did, too. What did the White Lady do? Bind herself in her garden and then be rude to Grimmchild when Ghost finally found her location. They are more than a little bitter about that.

Ghost is unsurprised, and more than a little annoyed, that the most decent parent still alive in Hallownest is the God of Nightmares.

_There's a certain amount of irony there_ , Ghost thinks darkly. Out of all the old gods in Hallownest, the best parent is the Nightmare King. Not the Pale Wyrm, though he did his best; not the White Lady, who Ghost will hold a bitter grudge against until her death; not even Radiance, though that's probably for the better. Ghost shudders to think of some poor child unlucky enough to be related to the Moth Goddess.

A Mantis passes by them, too close to their hiding spot for comfort, and Ghost shakes the cobwebs from their mind. They have a village to sneak through, hopefully without getting caught.

If need be, they can shed their mortal form and slip through the actual shadows. The downside to that, though, is that it takes them forever and a day to reform their chitin exactly to their liking. Ghost prefers to not use that skill unless it's a last resort. They definitely understand why the Pale King only changed skins once, despite him being extremely annoyed at his lack of height.

Going through metamorphosis is extremely tiring.

The thrones of the Mantis Lords are down a deep cavern and Ghost curses silently. There's no possible way for them to peek in without being spotted, not with the massive open arena that resides in front of said thrones. Quietly, Ghost resigns themself to being spotted and just hopes that they can make a clean enough escape.

Getting caught will be more than all right if they can just pinpoint where exactly in Radiance's dream they are.

A loud clamor arises and Ghost breathes in sharply, taking the chance to push further into the shadows as a group of Mantises rush by. There's zero sign of infection on them, not that there was much even when Radiance still lived, and Ghost tilts their head to the side. _Odd,_ they think, and then sigh heavily. They discard their shell and latch onto the shadow of a Mantis, curling up within the constantly shifting darkness. Were anyone paying attention, they would have seen eight eyes blink open and then shade to dark gray. Having to spend the solid part of their day reforming their shell will be annoying, but maybe they can find out what's going on. More information is always good, and perhaps Ghost will learn something new along the way.

The Mantis they're using as a free ride rushes into the throne room and bows low, gaze locked to the ground. Ghost curiously blinks all eight of their eyes, careful to keep the glow out of them. It's more than a little difficult, seeing how little practice they have as Void Given Focus, but somehow they manage. It helps that the Mantis Tribe seems to be extremely riled up about something, and therefore aren't really paying attention to ominously eyed shadows.

Small mercies.

Ghost tilts their head slightly and frowns, peering up at the thrones. They count them slowly, then do it again just to make sure. Then a third time, because this is a dream and dreams don't have to make sense.

Four thrones, each one topped by one of the Sisters of Battle and the final by the Traitor Mantis. Ghost peers carefully at the only male amongst the Mantis Lords. There's not a single glint of orange in his eyes, only pride for his people and a vicious determination to protect. His daughter stands proudly by his throne, her bladed arms crossed neatly in front of her.

Ghost mentally crosses out a large frame of time. This dream is far earlier in Radiance's infection than they first thought. Admittedly, they have no idea when the Mantis Lord fell to Her light, but the complete and utter lack of orange is a bit of a hint.

There's definitely still the issue of Ze'mer not being a Mantis though, and Ghost knows that will eventually drive a wedge between father and daughter.

But this is a dream, and therefore not Ghost's problem. They lazily glide from shadow to shadow, slithering up the wall with a quiet grace. There's no outcry from behind them, so Ghost assumes they weren't spotted. It will take a while for their chitin to reform, but then they'll head out.

Ghost still has more parts of this dream to explore. 


	8. City of Tears

There is a ghost in the City of Tears.

There is a ghost of a memory in the City of Tears.

This ghost is nothing more than a black void, slithering from one dark corner to the next. They twist and writhe, using the passing shadows of nobles to slink further into the city. Rain falls heavily around and Ghost blinks their eight eyes slowly. They can't really feel it, as they're no more than void hidden within a shadow, but they appreciate the emotion it brings.

Ghost takes the first chance they have to slither into an ally and start the process of rebuilding their chitin from nothing.

It's a slow process, building their shell piece by piece, but it's one that Ghost finds they enjoy. It's soothing, being able to smooth void into a deep black shell, and they eventually find themself sitting on the soaked stones, pressed up against a building. Ghost carefully gets to their feet, almost slamming directly into a wall when they realize they've misjudged their height.

They're about as tall as Hallow was, is, will be, and Ghost rubs their horns gingerly. The only reason they'd chosen to reform this big is because it's a little less conspicuous than a tiny vessel that's far shorter than anyone else. Besides, with a little more void they can create themself a massive cloak to hide their face. After all, no vessel aside from the Pure Vessel is supposed to be outside of the Abyss currently.

Ghost then remembers that this is a dream and that they can go wherever they damn well please.

They're still going to cover their horns, though, if only because dripping water everywhere is far less fun. Ghost carefully swishes their cloak to the side and then examines it. A little longer, they decide, and then call the void to them. Their cloak stretches down longer, farther, until it's brushing against the spikes on the back of their legs, and they tug it up and over their head.

Void curls and reforms around their horns and Ghost makes sure it's in place, then strides out of the alley. Nobles get out of their path and Ghost would laugh, except they definitely feel naked without their nail. Normally they would return it to their back, except it's the City of Tears. No one else has a nail except for the guards, and Ghost doesn't really want anymore attraction than they already have.

A bench is nearby, from what they remember of the map, and Ghost heads towards it, taking the chance to grab the elevator while they can. They have to duck slightly to get in and there's two nobles already in there who eye them nervously. Ghost leans against the wall and crosses their upper set of arms, taking great care to keep their lower ones hidden below their cape. Their eight eyes are already unnerving enough, apparently.

_What a weird dream_ , Ghost thinks lazily as the elevator crawls upwards. _Or, maybe not, sister once told me that most nobles are cowards._

They tilt their head upwards to stare at the driving rain and ignore the way the nobles breathe in sharply at the movement. Fear grows as the two blithering fools press further against the wall, as far away from Ghost as possible. The elevator grinds to a halt and Ghost barely waits for the doors to open, instead squeezing out as soon as they're able. Anything to get away from those stupid nobles that they aren't allowed to stab. Sister would be so proud of them for their patience.

The halls in this area are almost empty, odd for such a bustling dream of the city, and Ghost slowly grinds to a halt.

There it is.

The bench.

The bench they sat on next to Quirrel.

The bench where they sat for hours, just listening to Quirrel weave stories about the city and what it used to look like. Ghost didn't particularly care about the stories, or even about the city itself, but they loved listening to Quirrel speak. There was just something so gentle in his voice. The way he'd talk so fondly about the history and knowledge. That glint of excitement in his eyes and the joy in his voice.

Ghost loved seeing that, so much that they were happy to listen to him, even if they didn't understand very much of what he said. Even if this is a dream, even if Ghost will wake up come morning, they don't regret seeing Quirrel. Not even though it hurts, aches, burns. They miss him so goddamn much.

It's so unfair that the world took him from them so quickly.

They sniffle quietly and curl up on the bench, tucking their long legs up against them and flinging the cape over their thighs. Ghost crosses their arms and drops their head onto them, staring out the window to the driving rain outside. It hurts. Grief hurts. Grief tears and burns at their void, greedy and vicious and they sniffle miserably.

Out of all the things their father could have done, why did he make it so they could feel emotions but not emote them?

Ghost really wishes they could speak, if only so they could howl their grief to the sky.

In this dream, however, Quirrel is still alive, but he's no longer the Quirrel they remember. He's untempered by his travels, by grief, and by loss. Quirrel doesn't have the thin veneer of sadness that he once did.

Before he killed himself.

Perhaps that is for the better. Even though this is a dream, Ghost doesn't have to fear losing this Quirrel to his own mind. They just ache and grieve and burn so deep that Ghost can't even consider approaching him.

Their heart aches too much.

Ghost uncurls from the bench and moves to lounge on it the way Grimm used to and stares out into the dripping rain. The sound is heavy, thudding against the glass and running across it in thick streaks. It's soothing, in an odd way, and reminds Ghost vaguely of the void.

Quirrel and the void. Two extremely painful subjects for them.

They tilt their head downwards and pull out their map, idly tapping an area. Perhaps checking out what the Soul Sanctum is like in this dream isn't a bad idea at all.


	9. Soul Sanctum

There is a ghost in Soul Sanctum.

There is a ghost of a memory in Soul Sanctum.

This ghost is silent, slipping from shadow to shadow as they travel. There's something wrong in this area, that much they can tell. The air is thick with Soul and fear. Usually the fear is aimed towards them; the fact that it isn't has Ghost worried.

What could be going on within the Soul Sanctum that the very walls themselves are saturated with it?

The very air? Thick with fear to the point of choking?

Whatever it is, Ghost is certain they're not going to like it.

Ghost slowly pokes their head around a corner, carefully minding that their horns aren't sticking out very far. If there is one thing about this form that makes sneaking difficult, it's definitely the sheer size of their body. Long horns and even longer limbs make keeping a low profile on the tougher side.

That doesn't mean they're incapable of such things, though it does help that the Soul Sanctum seems to be oddly silent. Outside of this dream, back in the original area, the air is filled with the groaning of Mistakes and Follies, along with the familiar hum of the Soul Twister's powers. In this dream it's dead quiet.

That's extremely concerning.

Ghost narrows their eyes slowly beneath the mask and glances around a little more carefully. The pathways are exactly as they remember, minus the large corpse piles that still seems to be there, just much smaller. They idly kick one corpse, then nudge it until its face up, then kneel down to examine it closely.

The bug's shell is wrinkled and ruined, carapace cracked in a multitude of places that make Ghost frown. They genuinely can't think of a single way of dying that would ruin chitin quite like this. Nails and needles pierce, as do spikes and most thrown blades. Even the crushing blow of a mace wouldn't leave this sort of spiderweb ooze.

This looks like they were quite literally drained dry of life, until their shell dried and cracked and collapsed upon itself.

Ghost frowns. They know so little about the Soul Sanctum and its history. About the people there. All they have to go off is what the Hunter's Journal told them, and that doesn't paint a very good picture. Ghost scowls and cocks their head to the side, carefully listening for any sounds. Hearing nothing, they draw their nail and stalk forward, carefully parsing every step before they take it.

There's no need to draw any attention that they don't need, after all.

It takes them two rooms and three halls for noise other than their own footsteps to appear and Ghost freezes, ducking back down into the shadows. A Soul Twister glides past, clearly on some sort of mission, and they follow silently after. Perhaps they will learn what is going on in here. Why the Soul Sanctum in this dream is so damn odd.

Ghost won't lie, they have an incredibly bad feeling about this.

Something's wrong. There's a rot here in the Soul Sanctum that wasn't present in any other areas of the dream. A sense of wrongness that weighs heavily over these rooms, no matter how much Ghost tries to ignore it. An untouchable corruption, an incurable disease. Ghost shakes their head and cautiously peers over a ledge, looking down into a very large room.

There's a small group of bugs there, surrounded by three Soul Twisters and a much larger bug that Ghost barely recognizes as the Soul Master. Admittedly, they've fought so many bugs, and the Soul Master fight had been rather boring, that Ghost barely remembered that the other existed in the first place.

Something to rectify immediately, they suppose. It's generally not a very good idea to forget someone who is attempting to kill you. 

Ghost can't hear what the Soul Master is saying, but the way the terrified bugs immediately press closer to each other says that it wasn't good. One of them cries something back, and the Soul Twisters circle in closer, moving slowly around the trio of clustered bugs. They cringe back, turning in an attempt to keep their gaze on all of them at once.

The Soul Master raises his arms, Soul curling up around his fingers, and a large ruinic circle appears on the floor. It glows brightly in the darkness, a thousand different symbols and letters that they barely recognize, much less actually decipher their meanings. There's one for 'take', another for 'consume' and a third for 'cluster'. They can't read any more of the runes, not without risking getting closer, and Ghost leans a little further over the ledge and frowns, wishing that they could hear what was going on. 

Then the Soul Twisters active the circle and magic rushes upwards, a yawning screaming power that freezes Ghost through every drop of the void that makes up their form.

It's a clawing, sucking power that yanks at them despite being far above the group, despite not even being within the circle's radius. The trio of bugs actually trapped within it don't stand a chance. Their shells crack and shatter immediately, the sound of breaking chitin just as loud as their screaming. Ghost automatically covers where their ears would be if they had them, cringing back against the ground. The Soul Twisters and Soul Master don't so much as flinch at the sensations.

Soul coalesces above the circle, glowing bright and strong in the gloom of the Sanctuary's dim light, and the Soul Master leans in almost greedily. One after the other, the shells drop to the ground with a thud. The sound rings heavily in the silence of the room.

The circle breaks and the Soul Twisters glide backwards, watching blankly as the Soul Master moves forward and absorbs the Soul. Ghost shudders and shivers up on the ledge, trying desperately to forget the sound of the screaming.

Anger burns within their void and it takes everything Ghost has to not lunge down there and slaughter them all. They want to kill something, they're so furious. How dare they do that?

It's not even the infection that's driving those fools, for there is not a single drop of orange in their gazes. It's just madness, plain and simple.

Ghost finds they hate this part of the dream with every fiber of their being. Maybe if they slaughter Absolute Radiance in Her pantheon again, they'll feel a little better afterwards.


	10. Royal Waterways

There is a ghost in the Royal Waterways.

There is a ghost of a memory in the Royal Waterways.

This ghost is furious, anger boiling their void until it's practically steaming off of their shell. They storm down through the paths, slaughtering all of the Flukemons unluckily enough to get in their way.

Ghost doesn't care that their cloak and shell are now splattered with gore. They're too angry to do so. All they can focus on is the need to get to the Godseeker and enter the Pantheon. They need to kill something; to slaughter something within a dream is the only way they won't hurt anyone living.

They were the exact same way when they first discovered the atrocities their father had committed in the name of his kingdom. Ghost had gone through an entire Pantheon in their rage, before eventually calming down enough to actually think it through. It had taken them hours of fighting, nail biting into flesh and chitin, until they had enough thought process to realize their father hadn't had a choice.

That he hadn't wanted to do what he had done, but Radiance had forced his hand.

Ghost had gone through a second Pantheon with that understanding, rage bubbling within them.

Meeting their mother had been a third Pantheon moment, their rage bubbling beneath their shell. Her sharp words had cut them down to their very void; the assumption that they would happily slaughter their sibling and take their place as the holder of the infection. Ghost had been so angry in that moment that they'd turned their back on her and stalked out, taking the Stag straight to the closest station to the Junk Pit. That run had been significantly longer than the one for their father. Ghost had gone through three Pantheons in their rage.

It had taken them almost a day and a half to calm down, and even then mention of their mother sent their void into a quivering rage.

What they had seen at the Soul Sanctum, however, has Ghost so furious they're barely paying attention to their surroundings. They have to get to Godhome right now, or they're going to do something they will absolutely regret.

One Pantheon run isn't going to be enough for them to deal with this much anger.

Ghost is positive they're going to have to go through all five Pantheons. Probably more than once, if they're being completely honest with themself. Not even the anger they had for their mother compares to the sheer level of burning rage that's simmering within their void.

They've never really experienced the void-shaking rage that their sister had once talked about. The rage where you're so angry you drop your weapon so you can strangle the idiot with your bare hands.

Ghost definitely understands that feeling now.

Given half a chance, they would absolutely revert to Void Given Focus, if only so they can wrap their hands around the Soul Master's body and squeeze.

The sound the chitin would make as it cracks in their crushing grasp would be immensely satisfying. Ghost, however, has no desire to clean hemolymph and guts off of their hands, so they'll settle for repeatedly beating the shit out of him in Godhome.

It's easier and far less messy that way.

Despite being blocked by a cracked wall, Ghost smashes their way in and stalks through the maze before the Junk Pit. Despite some of them being infected, the Flukemunga steer clear of them after Ghost easily guts one of them with their nail. They're smeared with more hemolymph and innards than they'd like, but Ghost will just have to clean themself within Godhome's hot springs.

Usually that would be bad manners, but Ghost finds they genuinely don't care what those stuffy bastards think.

Crystal Heart activates with a loud shattering of glass and Ghost rockets across the acidic waters, skidding to a halt on the rubble of the Junk Pit. They huff and pick their way upwards, drawing the dreamnail in preparation of entering Godhome, and then pause.

Godseeker's coffin is locked. Odd, Ghost thinks, then remembers it's a dream and that the coffin was opened by them at a far later time. They draw their nail instead, a massive nail as long as they are tall, made by the Nailsmith as a final favor, and smash the flimsy chain to pieces with ease. The coffin cracks open and the Godseeker crashes to the ground with a heavy thud.

Ghost eyes it for a moment. They never did figure out if she was dead or not. Then they shrug and Dreamnail her anyway, far more interested in getting rid of their anger than standing there and trying to discover where or not she was breathing.

They have better things to do. 

_Blasphemy! Rank blasphemy! Thou crawler! Thou cringer! Thou smallest of the small! By what right dost thou trespass here, in this home of the Gods? Shrivel away and begone! Begone!_

The words of the hivemind of Godseekers echo loudly within their mind. Ghost rolls all eight of their eyes beneath their mask, and blinks when they realize they're still in their large form. They breathe in slowly, then compress themself, mask and body reforming into the smaller, more child-like shape.

The shape they're much more comfortable fighting in. The shape that the Godseekers are far more likely to underestimate.

They're going to get quite a bit of glee out of beating the shit out of their so called Gods.

With their much smaller nail on their back, Ghost stalks forward and makes a beeline towards the nearest door. The Pantheon of the Master, with Mato and Oro standing at the top. A good fight, one that Ghost finds they enjoy sparring against quite a bit. They stretch lazily as the door creeks open, their anger still simmering within their bones, and take a long, slow breath. The gazes of the Godseekers are heavy on their back, judgmental and cruel.

Ghost is going to take great pleasure in smashing their stupid arrogance.

Within this dream within a dream, Ghost will still ascend to the top. They're too powerful to do anything else. 


	11. The Master

There's a ghost in the Pantheon of Masters.

There's a ghost of a memory in the Pantheon of Masters.

This ghost is still angry, void burning within their chitin as they cut down their opponents with an almost brutal ease. They've already gone through the Vengefly King, Gruz Mother, and False Knight, and are now hacking away at the Massive Moss Charger as it lunges towards them.

Ghost pauses, then considers something as they continue to hit the Charger. If this is Radiance's dream, then False Knight shouldn't exist yet. Perhaps Godhome is also pulling from their memories, too? They remember the Pantheons they originally challenged well, what with Ghost frequently using them as a form of stress relief, and they're reasonably certain that most of the dead bugs then are alive now.

Odd. But interesting. Perhaps Ghost will get to fight more of the Great Knights than just Ogrim. Not that they don't mind fighting him, they just wish he was a little. . . less rank. Despite their lack of voice, everything else still works just fine. Ghost has never quite wanted to leave an area before, but Ogrim's zone is one they definitely avoid.

They take a step back when the Massive Moss Charger dies, wailing as it curls up upon itself and vanishes into essence. Last time they'd fought Hornet next, but this is a dream of what Hallownest used to be. They have no idea what will happen. The arena starts changing around them and Ghost braces themself, then has to double take.

It's not Hornet.

It's probably, if anything, _worse_.

_Herrah_ looms above them, a massive weapon within her hands, and Ghost swallows nervously. _Shit_ , they think, taking a very careful step backwards. Her gaze locks onto them and she raises her blade. It's massive, even bigger than their adult weapon, and Ghost can already tell that she'll hit just as hard as Traitor Lord.

_Fuck_ , Ghost thinks, flinging themself out of the path of Herrah's blade. She's just as fast as Hornet despite being the same size as the False Knight. Legally she should have no right to move that quick, but she does, and Ghost is practically screaming as they improvise tactics on the fly.

They are so grateful they're in their tiniest form. Ghost genuinely doesn't think they'd be able to handle Herrah in their adult size, though it wouldn't be a problem for Void Given Focus.

She's just so fast and vicious that Ghost knows they wouldn't be able to dodge a large chunk of her attacks. At the very least they wouldn't be able to duck under the large horizontal swing. That one would definitely carve out some chunks from their torso.

No wonder fighting Hornet was such a pain. She definitely got her viciousness and sheer talent with a weapon from her mother.

Herrah bears down on them and Ghost can't stop the reflexive screech of horror, skidding under the blade and releasing Abyssal Shriek against her torso. She snarls loudly and--

_FUCK_! Ghost yowls, when Herrah uncurls two more sets of arms from underneath her cloak, each one wielding a short blade. They recoil away, Shade Dashing through a duo of blades, and spin to whack their nail against Herrah's side.

Suddenly Ghost is very much regretting not listening to Hornet talk about her mother more. They do remember her title, though. Herrah the Beast. It definitely suits her. She's absolutely terrifying in battle.

Ghost is very much regretting having to fight her. Well, less about fighting her and more that they have almost no tactics to counter her attacks.

_She takes a lot more to stagger than Hornet ever did_ , Ghost notes idly, dashing through her again. Herrah whirls on them, just as light on her feet as her daughter will be, and Ghost can feel a cold sweat drip down their void. They activate Descending Dark in a panic, the void coating their form and giving them a few seconds of precious invincibility.

Just long enough for all six of Herrah's weapons to go through their form.

Herrah doesn't appreciate that very much, apparently, because she immediately comes right back in for another blow. Ghost releases three Abyssal Shriek, one after the other, and she stumbles back and then drops to a knee. They land on the ground, panting heavily, and are immensely relieved when the arena changes around them.

The bench and hot springs are a much needed break and Ghost finds themself sinking into the steaming water with a sigh of relief. Soul curls within them and they splash around cheerfully. This form is small and childish and Ghost is happy to give in to the urge to splash something. The Godseekers at the edge give them sour looks and Ghost considers breaking their mask to stick their tongue out at them.

They decide to splash them and then leap out before any retaliation can happen. A quick stop at the bench and then Ghost is lunging back into the next arena. They have no idea what they'll face next, but they're definitely excited.

Gorb is alive, they realize, though their attacks are still the same. The magical spears that circle in the air and launch towards them in a rather easily avoided path. Ghost skids closer and happily smashes their nail into Gorb's side until the Dream Warrior yields. The arena changes again.

Ogrim, then a Soul Warrior (which Ghost takes vicious pleasure in smashing to bits), and finally the Brooding Mawlek. There's far less infection on it, but Ghost, knowing that a resting spot is next, happily plants themself right next to the Mawlek and fills it with Abyssal Shrieks until it goes down.

One quick bench rest and dip in the hot springs later, and Ghost steps into the final arena. Their void is quivering with excitement and they breathe in slowly, then draw their nail.

They know this arena.

Oro stands across from them and Ghost narrows their gaze, but bows anyway. It's only polite, even if this Oro doesn't know them. The Nailmaster seems confused as to why they're here in Godhome, but bows back and then draws his nail. Ghost lunges forward.

This fight isn't hard, seeing as they've fought against them before, so Ghost isn't surprised when Oro stumbles back.

Both Mato _and_ Sheo showing up for round 2, though, is both a welcome and _extremely unwelcome_ surprise.

Ghost curses and braces themself for a much tougher fight. 

Oro and Mato together are a pain, but having Sheo to back them up is a lot less fun. Ghost finds themself in the air a lot more, practically flinging their small form out of the range of those annoyingly long nails. The three brothers are ruthless in their pursuit, and its a small miracle that Ghost manages to knock Mato out first. 

Dropping from three to two is a bit of a relief and Ghost skids to the side and slams down in Descending Dark. Seeing Sheo with a nail is a bit of a whiplash, but he's just as skilled as his brothers. Ghost is definitely taking a few more hits than they'd like to admit from the Nailmaster's blades. They've got to finish this before they get defeated. 

Ghost lunges forward and throws every single Abyssal Shriek they can manage into Oro's face, tanking at least two hits in the process. Oro, however, clearly has had enough and joins Mato on the sidelines, watching as Sheo faces off alone. Ghost flexes their fingers and meets Sheo's blade with a loud crash. Their void swirls and bubbles and they huff a breathless laugh, feeling Soul from each successful hit seep into their body.

A single, final Abyssal Shriek is all it takes to make Sheo back off. Ghost bows to all of them, feeling the way their heart rabbit-jumps in their chest. The Nailmasters bow in return and the arena fills with light. 

Ghost's victory howl echoes throughout the dream. 


	12. The Sage

There is a ghost in the Pantheon of Art--i-s-ts.

There is a ghost of a memory in the Pantheon of the S-a-g-e.

_It's pulling wrong_ , Ghost realizes. The title above the door to the entrance had been switching rapidly between Artist and Sage and for a while they hadn't understood. Then it clicks. Sheo can't be at the top of this pantheon because he is still a Nailmaster like his brothers. The dream is glitching around them as it fixes itself, selecting Sly to rule over the second instead of the third.

Ghost wonders who will be at the top of the third pantheon. Hopefully a good fight, anyway.

While they're still angry, its burned into a low simmer. A type of anger that's on the verge of leaping skyward at any time. Ghost knows they're most likely going to viciously murder Soul Master when he eventually appears. It's the least the bastard deserves, after all.

But currently they're cooler, calmer. Ghost isn't about to let their anger get the better of them. They've seen what happens when it does. And it's usually not very pretty.

Xero is a pretty smooth fight, his spears being fairly easy to avoid. He doesn't float around like he did in Dream form, though, instead choosing to lunge forward quick and light. A lot like the Traitor Mantis' did. He doesn't hit quite as hard, and Ghost finds a rhythm of leaping in and then away, slicing and blocking with their nail. It's a fun fight, and they laugh breathlessly when the Xero drops to one knee and the arena glows white.

Crystal Guardian is pathetically easy, and the less Ghost has to say about that, the better.

They're in the process of dusting crystal dust off their cloak, and boy does that stuff get everywhere, when the arena changes again. Ghost freezes, and feels anger burn up bright and strong. It's Soul Sanctum's arena, and they draw their nail with a vicious snarl.

Soul Master explodes into existence and Ghost lets out a furious growl, feeling their void boil with fury beneath their chitin. They're going to break every single piece of his exoskeleton. Snap his fingers and shatter his plates. Ghost is going to smash him into the ground until he stops moving and hemolymph leaks out of his ruined shell.

Ghost is angry.

Ghost is very angry.

Given half a chance, Ghost would assume Void Given Form and crush him beneath their giant hands. They're so angry they would consider eating him, just to shred fragile shell with teeth sharper than nails. They'd slowly drag all of the Soul from his body, if only so the Soul Master would go through the pain of having it stolen.

If Ghost had been a little bit closer, just a little less in control of their anger, they would have slaughtered the bastard back in the Soul Sanctum. They would have taken an immense amount of glee in it. It doesn't matter that this is a dream.

Better that they do it in Godhome, where they can be certain there are no consequences for murder. Besides, here Ghost can fight as many as they need, again and again and again. Outside of Godhome, no matter the fact that it's a dream, Ghost can't control it. If Soul Master died there, they wouldn't be able to reform him out of Essence. 

Godseeker waves for the match to begin and Ghost drags themself out of their thoughts, taking the chance to lunge forward in a whirl of blades. Soul Master floats lazily above their blade, but Ghost changes directions immediately. Their nail bites into his chitin and Ghost puts as much strength as they can behind the blows.

The way it caves and cracks from the force is incredibly satisfying. Ghost takes immense pleasure from the Soul Master's roar of pain. They howl right back, their void screaming for them where their voice cannot flow, and leap upwards, following him as he tries to flee out of range.

Their rage will not be contained.

Ghost will see him dead and in pieces at their feet. They will make sure of that.

Soul Master drops down to lunge towards them and Ghost retaliates with Abyssal Shriek, then dashes forward to drive their nail point-first into his stomach. The howl that escapes him makes Ghost Shriek again in delight, and they pour as much Soul as they can into the spells. 

Every hit makes Ghost almost shiver in delight. The way the Soul Master's struggles slowly weaken as they rip the nail out and stab him again and again and again. Ghost is practically coated in hemolymph, a mess of green and blue and the black of their void. They don't care.

The Soul Master stills and Ghost howls in victory, the undertones of Void Given Focus coming through clear and loud. In the stands, the Godseekers shudder. Ghost doesn't care. They stare down at the corpse as the arena changes around them and they wish they could kill Soul Master all over again.

Oblobbles, even 2 of them, are stupidly easy, and Ghost is barely panting as the realm twists to that of the Mantis Village arena. The three sisters peer down at them and Ghost, suddenly very aware of how much gore they're splattered with, bows politely. They wave nervously and shake the remains of the hemolymph off of their cloak.

" _Grudge against Soul Master,_ " they sign sheepishly, and the three sisters laugh from upon their thrones. It takes Ghost a moment to realize that the Traitor Lord is also there, but he's leaning back against his throne in lazily watchfulness. It doesn't seem like he has an interest in fighting them, yet, and Ghost draws their nail and flicks it.

The first sister leaps down lazily, and Ghost breathes in and readies themself. It's not a particularly hard fight, but Ghost knows they have to put on a show. They're quite fond of the Mantis Lords, and they do want to impress them. If only because Ghost enjoys sparring with them for fun.

A quick rest at the hot springs and bench and Ghost breathes in and then out. From what they remember the only good fight will be whoever is at the top. They step through and are faced with a very alive Marmu. Her fight is still just as easy though, and they quickly move onto the Nosk.

Out of all of the shapes the Nosk could have taken, that of the Pale King was not what Ghost wanted or desired to see. Admittedly, they definitely hit their opponent a lot harder than they normally would have. If they didn't pay attention to the splashes of orange infection, they could pretend it was their father. Either way, Ghost leaves that arena feeling mildly better. 

They barely remember Flukemarm, other than that they'd hit it with Abyssal Shriek until it stopped moving. Then it's a resting spot and Ghost pauses, right in front of Godseeker. They could of sworn that there was another battle there.

(The Broken Vessel is not broken. They still live, still breathe, still walk Hallownest's lands. Ghost's heart clenches and they breathe in sharply, then move on.)

Seeing the way the sign glitched at the beginning, going from Artist to Sage, Ghost is completely prepared for the appearance of Sly. He's a fun fight, honestly, so they don't mind going against the small shopkeeper.

Ghost bows easily to him and lunges forward the second Godseeker signals for them to begin. Sly is clearly still the Nailmaster, having yet to become a simple merchant, and Ghost bounces over his nail, striking their own against his form. Sly's incredibly fast, especially for the size of his nail, and Ghost takes every advantage they can get.

They are, however, treating this like a spar. Ghost has no interest in killing the people they care about. They dance about the field with a laugh, trading blows with Sly until he finally stands down and leaps back. A quick bow and the arena goes white around them.

Ghost's howl of victory once again echoes through the dream. 


	13. The Guardian

There is a ghost in the Pantheon of the Guardian.

There is a ghost of a memory in the Pantheon of the Guardian.

This ghost is slightly concerned. They're already aware that the dream has shifted, that Sly is no longer the guardian of the third Pantheon. In fact, they'd stood at the entrance and watched the sign as it glitched wildly between Sage and Guardian before heading in. They're not sure who to expect, but a title like Guardian can only be a few people.

Ghost has a couple guesses but nothing concrete.

Hive Knight, however, is still an Actual Bitch. Ghost would like to file a complaint against him. Preferably by slamming their nail into his face a half dozen times until he stops moving. They scowl, dash through him, and whack him a couple times until the arena changes from the Hive to the Fungal Wastes.

Elder Hu is exactly as annoying, and not challenging, as ever and Ghost rolls their eyes then proceeds to absolutely decimate him within a few moments.

Collector and God Tamer aren't much to talk about, or even write home about, and Ghost cheerfully goes against them. They do feel bad for slaughtering God Tamer's ride, though.

(They don't notice that she isn't infected.)

Then Grimm appears and Ghost sucks in a sharp breath. They bow politely to the Nightmare King, feeling something sharp and angry boil in their void when he bows to the Godseeker instead. What a cruel thing to force him to do, making him bow to those bound to the Light's will. To make him bow to his sister's madness.

This isn't Grimm, merely a copy of him to dance to the Godseeker's will.

Ghost growls and lunges forward, their nail biting into the dream's chitin. This isn't the real Grimm, isn't the one they know and consider a surrogate father. Ghost still feels terrible about it, though. Like they're actually harming someone they care about.

But their desire to fight Radiance is greater than their fear of harming Grimm.

This is a dream within a dream. When they wake up again, Grimm will be fine. They'll go and check on him in Dirtmouth themself, even if it means running into the siblings they've been avoiding. Grimm will be fine. This is a dream.

They breathe in and out slowly and dash through Grimm, turning to slash at him with their nail. It hurts, burning in their chest, but they remind themself that it's not real. This is fine. Ghost is fine.

Ghost is very angry at Radiance for this. Usually they would just avoid the third pantheon, but for some weird reason none of the others are open. They're having to go through them from the very beginning.

It's almost like they're ascending all over again.

They shake that odd thought from their mind and bow to Grimm once the fight is over. The arena fades and they breathe slowly, Focusing to heal the few wounds they've received from the Troupe Master. Ghost remembers full well that Galien is next, and they're really not keen to face his massive scythe.

But they've done it before and they'll do it again.

Uumuu is, at least, a fun boss. They find they enjoy leaping around the arena out of its reach, almost like a much more dangerous game of tag. They laugh themself silly while the arena is changing and then find themself face to face with Herrah. 

Again.

_Oh fuck_ , Ghost thinks and then flings themself out of the way of her nail slamming down. They scramble to stay out of her path, vaulting across the spikes to the next platform in a rather desperate attempt to stay away from her and her nail. She hits like the Failed Champion of the dreams did, doing far more damage in a single blow than Ghost would ever like to take at once.

Herrah hits as hard as Failed Champion with the sheer speed of Traitor Lord. Ghost doesn't like this combination very much, and they make their displeasure clear by hitting her in the face with Abyssal Shriek. Once, twice, and then a third time for good measure. Herrah lunges towards them and Ghost shrieks in horror, barely getting out of the way of being hit.

Ghost very much understands where Hornet gets her "I will kill you" attitude from. Must run in the family.

They waste no time in hitting her as hard as possible in a rather desperate attempt to reach the end of her fight. Ghost is rather uncertain who the final fight will be but they'd very much like to go into it with as much health and soul as possible.

Eventually Herrah drops to one knee and Ghost collapses to the floor of the resting area out of sheer relief. They never want to have to fight her again.

Ever.

Ghost definitely understands why their father was wary around her. They'd be wary too if they were working with someone who could break their shell with one swing. They idly consider Hornet as big as Herrah and then wince. At least one of the siblings should be small enough to access tiny areas. Perhaps Hornet gets her height from their father.

It takes them a moment to heal all the way and Ghost cautiously steps into the next arena. It's nothing like the one for Sly, instead being covered top to bottom in vines and leaves. There's also a very familiar pungent scent that they definitely could have gone without ever smelling again.

Ghost suddenly has the sinking sensation they know who it is.

Ogrim slams to the ground in his White Defender armor of old and Ghost groans. Then the vines move, twist upwards, and Isma steps out of them. She draws two short daggers, clicks them against Ogrim's claws, and slides into a stance.

Fuck is a very good adjective for how Ghost feels right now. They're absolutely fucked. While Ogrim isn't a very difficult opponent, they know almost nothing about Isma except that she likes nature. And judging by the vines that suddenly now have thorns all over them, Ghost is in for one hell of a fight.

Isma dashes towards them and slashes with her blades, Ghost having to leap backwards and block with their nail. She's exceptionally fast, and very light on her feet, and Ghost can't stop the reflexive Abyssal Shriek when she's suddenly in her face.

Normally they could just destroy Ogrim but Isma counters his weaknesses very well. When he's underground she's lashing out with sharp vines and thorns and her blades, covering his movement. Ghost finds themself in the path of an attack more often than not. They're definitely taking some damage.

At least neither of them hits as hard as Herrah does.

They have to dash to the edge to heal, and Ghost crouches there with a faint curse. Isma, having clearly recognized an attempt to Focus, is already lunging towards them. Ghost barely gets two masks back before they have to bail again, frantically darting to the other side of the arena before crouching again.

Again, Isma lunges, but this time Ghost laughs. This attempt is a trap, and they slam down with the full force of Descending Dark. While being incredibly dangerous, she doesn't take that direct hit very well, and falls to the arena floor with a yelp of pain. Orgim bursts out of the ground and crouches over her.

Suddenly Ghost realizes why this pantheon is titled Guardian. They should have picked up on that a lot sooner.

They leave Ogrim to his defending and retreat to an open area, using the last of their Soul to heal a few more cracks and splotches. Their void curls up tighter within them and Ghost laughs almost breathlessly. Orgim and Isma are a fun matchup. They'll definitely have to challenge their statue in the Hall of Gods.

Isma slowly gets to her feet and picks up her short blades, spinning them with ease. Ogrim moves slightly to the side and they share a nod. He then crouches down and curls up. Ghost tilts their head to the side and then yelps loudly when Isma's vines launch Ogrim at them at high speed.

Okay, they're not a fan of that move.

They shake off the dizziness of taking that blow directly to the face and lunge foward, Shade Dashing through Ogrim's returning form. Clearly, Isma is far too dangerous for them to leave in the fight for much longer. Especially not if they want to gain access to the fourth pantheon.

Ghost skids to the side and slams into Isma with all the force of an Abyssal Shriek. She wails in pain and Ghost takes the chance to hit her with a Vengeful Spirit, sending her crumpling to the ground and out of the fight.

Ogrim lets out a bellow of rage and buries himself underground and Ghost wastes no time in slamming down with Descending Dark. They laugh when Ogrim's flipped onto his back and, without Isma to back him up, it's a quick fight.

They cackle as the white light surrounds them. Another howl of victory echoes through the dream.

(They're coming for Her light. She knows this and _fears_.) 


	14. The Faithful

There's a ghost in the pantheon of the Faithful.

There's a ghost of a memory in the pantheon of the Faithful.

This ghost is wary, unsure of what's to come. The last pantheon name had shifted so they weren't surprised to see this one do the same. "Faithful" is an odd name, though, and Ghost only has a few guesses as to who is guarding the top. Most likely a duo, assuming Faithful is running along the same theme as Guardian.

There's only a few duos Ghost can think of and they're not liking any of their options.

(If they have to fight their father and mother, Ghost is going to quit. And maybe lodge a complaint with the Godseeker. Probably by slamming their nail into her face. Repeatedly.)

Ghost breathes in slowly and steps into the light, bracing themself for anything other than Enraged Crystal Guardian. The familiar howl echoes through the arena and they draw their nail and then Shade Dash through it's tackle. Same as before, then. Shouldn't be too hard of a fight.

(Lost Kin, just like Broken Vessel, isn't there. Ghost breathes a sigh of relief. Fighting their sibling once was far too painful. They're not keen to do it again.)

No Eyes is just as creepy as ever. Ghost doesn't hesitate in slapping her with as many Abyssal Shrieks as possible. If only to get away from here faster. She doesn't float, but her Soul Summons are those stupid ghosts that glide across the screen. Ghost hates them. They hate her too.

Ghost breathes in as the arena changes around them and they're unsurprised to see the Queen's Gardens. The dream must be pulling from their memories then. Especially since they saw the Mantis with his sisters in their home. The Traitor Lord lands with a roar and Ghost bellows back, their void vibrating with glee.

Pantheon number Four. They're in number four. Soon they'll be in the fifth one, lunging for Her light. Ghost is _hungry_.

They lunge forward and slam their nail into Traitor Lord's side, trying not to think about how, currently, he's with his sisters in their village. How long until he falls? How much more time does he have left. Even if it's a dream, there's a part of Ghost that wants to save as many as possible.

(Is it because they're long since dead outside of the dream? Even if Ghost won't admit the answer, they know it well. The truth is in their void, even if they cannot speak it. Ghost regrets losing so many.)

Death may be a part of life, but that doesn't mean Ghost has to like it.

Traitor Lord roars again and slams into the ground, sending shockwaves rolling outwards, and Ghost launches themself through them. They skid into their opponents range and loose as much of their Soul into an attack as possible. Traitor Lord bellows and stumbles backwards and Ghost follows him closely. As long as Ghost stays within his range, then he won't fling out those annoying orange blades or the shockwaves.

He's easily one of Ghost's least favorite fights, even when just sparring against.

And yet, he's not as bad as Herrah. Herrah is _terrifying_.

Ghost can deal with Traitor Lord. They Shade Dash through him and slash at his back, Quick Slash allowing them far more hits than normal. Each blow makes him snarl and he whirls on them. Ghost is already gone, darting through him to land Abyssal Shriek against his unprotected back for the final blow.

The arena flares white. Ghost curses when Isma and Ogrim both step forward. God dammit, not fucking again.  
After that fight, Isma is absolutely the more dangerous of the two, Ghost is happy to flop face down into the hot spring and not move for a while. They run over their memories while they rest, marking off who has appeared and who hasn't. Normally the next opponent would be Failed Champion but Ghost has the sinking sensation that it wont be.

(They're right. Sometimes, Ghost hates when they're right. It's Hegemol himself, not the maggot who had stolen his armor. He hits just as goddamn hard, though.)

This is a dream, but Ghost is still surprised when they come face to face with Markoth. The moth bows to them politely and draws his nail, balancing a shield with his other arm. Ghost recognizes it and can't resist equipping their own Dreamshield. They take great amusement in the way the moth's eyes widen at the sight of the circling shield that protects them. Ghost waves, and when Markoth has actually focused on them, slashes the Dreamnail once.

Markoth visibly starts and they vibrate with laughter, barely managing to bow in return. They draw their actual nail, all pure ore and sharp edges, and trade several blows with him. Dream Markoth fights completely different as to when he's dead, no longer bound by the concept of gravity. They sidestep a blow and parry his shield bash, laughing at how surprised Markoth seems to be at the force of their blows. Ghost may be small, but they're still a God. Even when they weren't one, they could put a ton of strength into each hit. Now? That they're the God of Gods? Ghost has to pull back some of that strength, if only to make battles more fun.

It's a dream. It doesn't matter that Ghost knows they're going to wake up and nothing will be different. They still want to save everyone. Even if it won't really happen.

Ghost juggles their nail and signs as best they can, " _Where are you dreaming at?_ " Markoth glances at the sloppy signs, because one handed is damn hard when in the middle of a battle and frowns.

His blade slices downwards and Markoth shrugs lazily, but there's a new wariness in his stance. Ghost is pretty sure he won't answer but eventually, the moth does. Kingdoms Edge, he returns, the words lost in the dream, and Ghost feels their breath catch.

" _You should leave,_ " Ghost signs, now concerned. " _There's something lurking there._ " They barely manage to avoid a shield bash, but Markoth seems a little distracted. Almost like he's considering it. The moth nods only a moment later, and then retreats and bows.

The arena glows white. Apparently you can forfeit the dance in this dream.

Watcher Knights suck. Ghost abuses Descending Dark until they stop moving. They really don't like that fight, but they also want to get at the next ones.

(Soul Tyrant makes Ghost rage like they never have before. It takes everything they have to not break their shell and swallow him whole. The Godseekers spend that entire fight watching them nervously. Ghost doesn't notice.)

They stride through the resting area, pausing to eye Godseeker. She stares at them and moves out of the way, allowing Ghost to pass on without a word. Odd, but not something they should worry about. This ghost has a pantheon to finish.

The arena fills in and Ghost glances around curiously, taking in the large flat area. They've genuinely got no idea what to expect, other than the area giving them lots of space to move. They take a step forward and unsheathe their nail, warily glancing around.

A lance hurls at their face and Ghost shrieks in horror and dashes out of the way. A tall bug slams down on top of it, spinning around and hauling it up and over her shoulder. Ghost squints. Is that. . . Ze'mer? They're pretty sure that's Ze'mer. Dryya lands beside her and draws her needle.

Ghost curses.

Dryya sprouts wings and lifts off the ground, drifting lazily.

Ghost curses louder. They hate flying enemies.

Then Ze'mer readies her lance and dashes forward and Ghost screeches, leaping over the attack. Dryya darts in, needle at the ready, and they're forced to Shade Dash through her or get hit. Oh, they're already not liking how this fight will go.

They thought Ogrim and Isma were a good combo. They were wrong. Dryya and Ze'mer are even better. Ze'mer lances across the ground, forcing Ghost to leap upwards to avoid the attack. Then Dryya swoops in to stab them mid-air.

Ghost then discovers that Ze'mer hits as hard as Traitor Lord and Herrah do. They don't like that very much.

Descending Dark is a good, temporary, method of forcing them to retreat and Ghost takes a moment to breathe and think. They're not sure who to get rid of first. On one hand Ze'mer hits the hardest, but she seems to be limited to ground movement. Dryya doesn't hit as hard but has far higher mobility. She's also the flying enemy.

Ghost groans. It's not a very fun choice, but they need to get rid of Dryya. The sooner, the better. She might not hit like a Sentry Husk, but she's so quick that they know they won't like catching her. Especially when she flies up to the top of the room and starts chucking her needle at them.

They skid across a small area and leap over Ze'mer, then launch Abyssal Shriek into Dryya, hitting her as twice before she manages to get out of range. Ghost dashes after her, whacking her with their nail to gather enough Soul for another Spell. Ze'mer launches at them the second they land and Ghost frantically flaps their wings, barely avoiding the sharp point.

(Ghost has wings just like any other bug. Can they learn how to fly, too? A thought for a later time when they're trying to not die.)

Clearly they need to get rid of Ze'mer first, especially if she doesn't give them a moment to deal with Dryya's flying. They whirl around and slam down in Descending Dark, then dash through Ze'mer when she's staggered. Their nail finds the weak points in armor and chitin and digs in deep. Ze'mer bats them away like one would a Vengefly and Ghost snaps their teeth at her. The sound echoes through their mask and they hit her with as many Vengeful Spirits as they have the Soul for.

Ghost is beginning to question how much health she really has in this dream when Ze'mer stumbles back and drops out of the fight. Dryya buzzes closer and launches at them, her needle at the ready. Ghost slaps her directly in the face with Abyssal Shriek. Their void bubbles and she barely dodges a sharp tendril. They quickly drag it back under control and bring their nail down on her face. 

She yelps and retaliates with a sharp blow of her wings that sends Ghost skidding across the ground. They take the blow and snarl back, burning through the last of their soul in a burst of screams.

When the arena finally glows white, Ghost roars their victory. The dream _shudders_. 


	15. The Void

There is a ghost in the Pantheon of Hallownest.

There is a ghost of a memory in the Pantheon of Hallownest.

They remember this Pantheon well, but mainly how tiring it is. Every single boss they'd ever fought during their journey. Again. Ghost sighs and stares up at the shrine. It glows, orange mist giving it an almost halo-like appearance. They breathe in, then out, and then draw their nail.

[ _Ascend?_ ]

[ ** _Yes_** ] [ _No_ ]

White floods their vision.

Ghost makes their way through the Pantheon, systematically taking down everyone in their way. Herrah makes another appearance, as do Ogrim and Isma and Ze'mer and Dryya; those fights are fun. They definitely have to heal after those ones.

(Nightmare King Grimm is just as much of a nightmare as they remember. He hits as hard as Herrah and Traitor Lord. Ghost wishes they'd hit him harder, honestly.)

They bow and the arena glows white. Godseeker regards them warily and Ghost stretches lazily. Their void is content. They're so close. So close to consuming Her light and reaching the top of the Pantheon. Maybe then they'll wake up, and everything will be gone. Washed away with the burning light of the Dream Realm.

Ghost isn't ready for that, but they know they'll have to face it anyway.

They stride into the light and brace themself. Ghost knows who it is even before the arena finishes forming around them. They close their eyes and swallow tightly. " _I'm sorry for this,_ " they sign to their sibling. Pure Vessel tilts their head to the side, but draws their nail. It's only slightly smaller than the one Ghost carries in their adult form and they know full well how hard that thing will hit. They swallow tightly and draw their own in return. The blade gleams in the light, orange glinting in the deepest coils in the nail. Leftover infection from the bugs they had defeated earlier.

Even knowing this is a dream, even knowing this is Godhome, it still hurts to draw their nail against their sibling.

They breathe in sharply and then lunge forward, nails crashing together loudly when its blocked. _I'm so sorry_ , Ghost thinks and hits their sibling with Abyssal Shriek. It probably burns like crazy, the feeling of void you can't control ripping through your own. The way it grates and grinds and tears through in a searing pain of darkness and shadows. Ghost knows this well, having fought against their sibling once before.

(Ghost so desperately wants their sibling to react when they call their name. But this dream is of a time so long ago. They're probably used to no name other than Pure Vessel. The thought of that makes Ghost incredibly angry so they try not to think about it too much.)

Each hit against their sibling makes their void boil with both anger and grief. At one point, they actually flinch so badly that they run directly into a spike. The Pure Vessel pauses at that. Ghost would be embarrassed but they're just so tired and upset that they have to retreat and breathe a little.

They should lunge forward and plant more Spells into their sibling's void. It's a dream of Godhome. This isn't real. It still hurts, though.

Ghost closes their eyes, apologizes again, and then slams Abyssal Shriek into their sibling. Each hit makes them screech in pain and Ghost winces, then does it again. They have to if they want to reach Radiance. Ghost dashes through their sibling and then sinks their nail into void. The Pure Vessel howls with each blow and Ghost winces, then sinks several Vengeful Spirits into them.

They have to get through this. Ghost can do it, no matter how much it hurts.

(They don't know if they're still Pure or if their sibling has named themself after the kingdom they guard yet. Ghost can't ask. They can't bring themself to do so.)

Rage burns in their chest at the thought of Radiance forcing them to fight their sibling's image. This isn't real. This is a dream of their memories, of Her memories. No matter how much it hurts, this isn't their sibling. Ghost needs to defeat them if they want to slaughter Her.

They snarl, lunge forward, swallow back the grief and regret, and sink their nail into their sibling. Ghost dances backwards at the howl of pain and quickly shifts into trading blows in rhythm. Their sibling teleports and Ghost whirls, slamming their nail upwards and shifting the force of the blow.

Eventually, their sibling staggers and drops to one knee. Ghost stands there for a long moment, just panting. Their heart burns with anger and their void boils with grief. How dare Her memories defile their sibling like this. Ghost doesn't know what they'd done if they'd still been forced to fight Hornet.

Their sibling's head snaps upwards and Ghost feels the world shift. She screams Her fury and light glows around them, quickly turning the arena orange, then white. They reform on an arena, only Godseeker in the background. All the rest of them are gone. Ghost grips their nail tighter. They can see Her moving in the background, far off in the distance.

Radiance appears before them only a moment later, Her light shining bright. It burns their void, to be so close to Dream and Light, but they howl back anyway. The echo of Void Given Focus overtakes their voice and thousands of voices roar out in a single blow. Godseeker cringes in fear against her chair.

(Far down in the Abyss, the void thrashes. A lighthouse is consumed.) 

She teleports in a burst of golden light and Ghost lunges, leaping upwards and slamming their blade into Her flesh. They find themself angry again, incredibly so, but this time their target is in front of them. Ghost cackles with every hit, feeling the Soul that seeps out of Her fuel their spells. As soon as they have enough, they leap close and launch Abyssal Shriek.

Ghost lands, frowning at the lack of reaction from Her and swings their nail upwards. They skid to the side, avoiding the golden balls of light that chase them around the arena, and launch a second Abyssal Shriek. Spikes form out of the platform to their right and Ghost glances at them, making a note to avoiding being on that side.

A third Abyssal Shriek and they leap over another golden ball. Ghost curses when She teleports again, floating over the sea of spikes, and they're forced to Shade Dash through a column of burning light that races towards them. Their wings flap sharply and they fire two Vengeful Spirits within seconds of each other. Both connect solidly, much to Her rage.

Spikes form on their left, just inches from their heels. They land and dash forward, skidding beneath a golden orb. It crackles with light and infection and they leap upwards, slamming their nail into Her side. She launches more of the homing orbs and Ghost pogos up higher, over Her sharp crown and then Shade Dashes through Her body.

She teleports to the center of the arena and screams, Her howl of rage echoing throughout Godhome. Ghost can feel the whole dream shake from the force of Her anger. The void rushes upwards as She collapses to the platform, tendrils made from void reaching up to wrap about Her form. They stand there for a moment, just panting, and watch as Her eyes glow and She tears Herself free.

Platforms form above them and Ghost launches onto one, their wings buzzing loudly as they improvise learning to fly. A set of three perch high above the rising Abyss and Ghost lands on the middle one, bracing themself for Her reappearance.

Radiance appears with another scream, Her challenge echoing through the area. Ghost shakes infection off of their nail and leaps upwards, feeling each hit as it echoes through the blade. The blazing column of light comes from the right this time and they Shade Dash through it, turning midair to slam Descending Dark into the platform below where She now resides.

Her light shines and turns into sharp blades spilling out around Her, Ghost dodging by slipping between each hit with ease. They're so angry, this close to Her light, and they slam two consecutive Abyssal Shrieks into Her flesh without hesitation. She teleports up to the higher set of platforms, attempting to avoid their rage. Ghost follows, spreading their wings to get them just high enough to hit Her with a third Abyssal Shriek.

The sharp blades appear again, forcing them off the platform and into the air. Ghost dashes to the side and She teleports below them. They take the opportunity to bounce off of Her head a couple times, enjoying the way She snarls at them for it. Descending Dark comes as soon as they have enough active Soul and they slam through Her, barely avoiding the sharp blades She forms.

More platforms form, leading them higher up into the clouds and Ghost follows. They're so close, they can feel it in their void, and they launch upwards gleefully. Radiance fires more lasers at them, purposefully aimed to be exactly in the way, and they barely avoid a few. They're so glad they can cling to the edges of platforms, even if it's for no more than half a second. Just long enough to spread their wings and send themself up higher.

Her shining light glows above them and they hurl themself onto one of two platforms. She teleports instantly and Ghost curses when they miss Abyssal Shriek. They launch themself up into the air and fire Vengeful Spirit into Her form, barely missing the golden orb that flies over them as they fall, and try again. She teleports to the center and their next Abyssal Shriek connects soundly.

The void rushes up to just beneath the platform, bubbling and frothing at the edges. Ghost slams their nail into her until she stops moving.

Their mask shatters from the force of their anger and they crumble into the darkness of the void, taking control over the tendrils that now restrain the Light. Ghost screams their victory, tearing at Her until Her essence shatters and they absorb it all.

(The rush of sensation is too strong. Even as they're consuming Her and Her light, Ghost realizes something.)

(They're not dreaming.)


End file.
